Do you remember this scene from an early post here on Secondary Roads?
A couple of weeks went by, and the scene had changed.
Makes me feel a bit sad. As if earth is mourning the passing of Sylvia’s father.
At Dad Harris’ funeral, I could clearly see what his great grandchildren are becoming. The young men, there were a number of them, are all tall, handsome and strong. The one exception was a baby great grandson. Briana was the only great granddaughter present. If you read this blog you know what she is like. All of the great grands are doing well in careers or in school.
While Dad’s time has past, there are other generations that are taking up the mantle. I could feel sad about the past . . . even the present. In spring, life returns. The cycle goes on.
Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.
Loss is rightly accompanied by grief, but by hope, too.
I think most of the family moved fairly quickly through the five or seven (depending on which model you use) of grief. I felt that after the funeral the family was, for the most part, at the final stage of acceptance and hope.
I understand completely. While you grieve, it is sometimes hard to rejoice in the life that once was. I think time allows for that, thank goodness. You have an incredible family–both close and extended. I’m sure Dad knows that and is smiling down from heaven.
I believe you are 100% correct.
He’s the last of that generation in your family, right? Now you are the senior members? That got to me a little bit when my mom died.
Sylvia’s mom’s step sister is still living, but is in bad shape. Sylvia’s sister is a month older than me and her hubby older still.